


Conspiracy on the Highroad

by Chichirinoda



Category: Final Fantasy X
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-04
Updated: 2009-07-04
Packaged: 2017-10-14 08:01:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/147115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chichirinoda/pseuds/Chichirinoda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Auron is lonely after Jecht and Braska get together on the pilgrimage, but Braska and Jecht want to make sure he knows he's included.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Conspiracy on the Highroad

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**kink_bingo**](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/) prompt "double penetration (one hole)".

Auron had seen the secret glances and sideways looks that Jecht and Braska had been exchanging all day, but he never suspected that they were conspiring against him.

He spent most of the evening in a foul mood, glowering into the fire they had built by the side of the Mi'Hen Highroad and ignoring the two of them. Jecht lay sprawled against a convenient rock, a bottle in one hand, which he seemed to be sipping from more out of habit than because he wanted the sensation of intoxication. Not that he ever quite lost that edge of inebriation, so far as Auron could tell.

The man had been thrown in jail for drunkenness but it hadn't made an impression, he had continued his drinking spree ever since Bevelle, and Auron was no longer buying that it was due to depression over his wife and son, and his lost home. Assuming he was even telling the truth about Zanarkand. The jury was still very much out on that, in Auron's opinion.

But that didn't seem to bother Braska, for he lay on the ground beside Jecht, hair unbound and uncovered for once, and the silver strands flowing over Jecht's lap. The fingers Jecht didn't have wrapped around the neck of a bottle were idly brushing through Braska's hair, and the look Braska gave him in return was soft and sweet.

Every time Auron saw that it made him want to break something, hence his focused attention on the flames.

"I'm going to bed," he finally said in a rough growl, and jerked himself to his feet. He told himself that it didn't matter, that Braska was a man, and a widower, and if he wanted to dally around with one of his Guardians on the Highroad, he certainly wouldn't be the first Summoner to do it.

And of course he had his choice of Guardians to dally with, there being two available. It wasn't Auron's place to argue with his choice, even if said choice was a loud-mouthed, alcoholic, lazy, lunatic, jerk who would probably cut and run once it got too dangerous for his questionable loyalties. Not to mention that he was married.

"Good night, Auron," Braska called out quietly, his gentle voice carrying on the cool breeze.

For a moment, Auron felt guilty for his foul mood. Braska didn't deserve for him to be carrying on like a jealous child.

Though it wasn't like he was jealous. He just didn't like _Jecht_. Braska could do so much better. Not Auron, of course - that would just be too arrogant to even think about - but _someone_.

But then Jecht raised his voice as well. "Yeah, g'nite priest. Don't wait up for us." The smug smirk in his voice was so obvious that Auron had to resist the urge to reach for his sword. How could he act like this was some kind of conquest? Or a competition that Jecht had won?

Auron shoved the flap of his tent aside a little more savagely than he intended.

Unfortunately, the nature of tents was that there were no walls to kick, no doors to slam. It was difficult to work out his frustration, and his anger was such that he was clumsy as he tried to unbuckle his bandolier, and it took three tries before he could finally work the strap free. He tossed the whole thing into the corner and then shrugged out of his shirt, letting it fall around his waist and leaving him bare-chested.

Despite the cool breeze outside, it seemed too warm in the tent. Auron threw himself down onto his pallet and pulled the elastic from his hair, letting it spread across his pillow.

He was not going to think about what Braska and Jecht were likely doing out there under the stars, finally alone and relieved that their brusque, moralistic chaperone was finally out of their hair. Jecht was probably making some kind of joke at his expense even now, and Braska was laughing softly, then chiding him gently and with affection.

Then Braska would sit up, caressing Jecht's cheek, or perhaps running his fine-boned, long-fingered hands over Jecht's bare, scarred chest. And they would kiss.

"Yevon make it stop," Auron groaned softly as the sphere in his brain delivered every moment in crystal clear detail. He rolled over and punched his pillow into a new shape, then buried his face in it.

There was a rustle that Auron put down to the breeze rattling the walls of the tent, but then Braska's soft voice reached his ears. "But if we stop, Auron, it won't be nearly so nice."

Auron jerked in surprise and twisted around, catching a glimpse of a dark figure bending down towards him. "Lord Braska--?"

"You've been feeling so lonely, haven't you?" Braska murmured, but his voice was coming from too far away. The figure bending close put a hand between Auron's shoulder blades, and his fingers were rough and calloused. The lips that drifted over Auron shocked and slack-jawed mouth before sealing to and kissing him were definitely not Braska's either.

Auron made a noise of protest, his hands coming up to push at Jecht as the blitzball player kissed him roughly.

"Jecht, be gentle," Braska admonished him. Now he was close, kneeling down at Auron's other side and brushing light fingers through Auron's hair. Slowly, slowly under Braska's soothing touch Auron began to relax. Jecht didn't become noticeably less rough, but he made a rumble of approval in his throat as Auron's lips softened and his hands loosened against his chest, no longer pushing, just holding him at a slight distance.

Auron tried to tell himself that he wasn't trembling, that his heart was pounding only because of how startled he'd been, and not because of the way Jecht's mouth devoured his lips, and his tongue explored deep into Auron's, touching places inside him that made him shiver.

Braska's fingers were a counterpoint to Jecht's touch, brushing lightly through his hair and then rubbing down the curve of his spine. Auron squirmed as Braska reached his lower back, rubbing in slow circles and just dipping beneath the fabric of his clothes.

And then Braska's lips were there, too, kissing down his back and flicking his tongue out of the hollow at the base of his spine. Auron moaned, squirming again, and Jecht rumbled a laugh, then freed his mouth.

"So the priest ain't so holy and high and mighty and perfect after all," Jecht muttered, stretching out next to Auron and cupping the back of his head in one big hand as Auron tried to pull away. There was nowhere to go but into Braska's arms anyway, and those gentle hands soothed away Auron's annoyance.

"Jecht," Braska said, more severely. "We're here because we love Auron, too, and want him to share in this. Don't make him feel self-conscious."

Auron choked. His mouth didn't seem to be obeying his brain's signals. Had Braska really just said that word?

But with the hands running over his body, one possessive and covetous, one gentle and soothing, he couldn't help but feel loved. Feel as he imagined Braska and Jecht had been making each other feel, which was why he had been so jealous in the first place.

All right, he could admit it. It was jealousy.

Finally he found his voice again. "My Lord, I... Jecht... Why are you doing this?" he stammered. Jecht's hand was certainly not wasting any time, shoving his hip upwards a little so that Auron faced him, and then dipping under his waistband to cup his genitals. He blushed as Jecht made another rumbling sound, curling his fingers over the hardness there and beginning to stroke.

Braska pressed lips to Auron's throat and then scraped his teeth over the spot, making Auron shiver. His hands were on Auron's chest now, exploring, tweaking a nipple.

"Weren't you listening?" Braska asked smugly. "We want you to know that there's no need to be lonely when we're here."

Auron couldn't respond, the overwhelming stimulation of so many hands over a body that had felt no touch other than his own in his life pulled a heartfelt moan from his throat. But he couldn't form any other words. They touched and caressed, everywhere at once it seemed, and Jecht's hand on his cock was the most intense of all.

Braska rocked his own hips against Auron's ass, moaning and gasping as he worked himself harder and harder against him. Desperate for more friction, the three men pulled at fabric, ripped it away, and then it was all a tangle of limbs and sweat-slick skin, and Auron in the middle of the two, utterly unable to think.

It was a surprise to him as much as anyone when Auron jerked in their grasp, climaxing with a cry and spilling hot, white fluid over Jecht's hand.

There was a short pause as Jecht laughed, Braska's panting breath hot in Auron's ear.

Auron's cheeks flamed at the laughter. He looked up, pushing sweaty hair from his eyes and saw Jecht licking the shiny fluid from his hand with the air of a self-satisfied cat. "W-what of it?" Auron gasped, far from as dignified as he'd like to be.

"Nothin'," Jecht replied, bending to kiss him roughly. He tasted of Auron's semen and the priest jerked back with an expression of disgust, too self-conscious and embarrassed to find enjoyment in it.

"Auron," Braska murmured. Now the chiding tone was directed at him. "Relax, my dear. Jecht, what would you like to do now?"

"Guess that depends on the priest, here," Jecht said. He shifted to sit next to Auron's head, curling fingers through Auron's hair and scraping nails against his scalp. His cock was engorged and red, bobbing not far from Auron's face as Jecht crossed his legs unmodestly. "You done, Auron, or are ya good enough ta return the favour?"

Auron tensed, glaring angrily up at Jecht. "I wouldn't leave it like that!" he exclaimed. How selfish did he think he was? Here they were, giving him this incredible gift--

He reached out, anger making him rough, and curled his fingers around Jecht's cock.

Jecht made another of those smug, but approving rumbles that both made Auron twitch with shame and sent a jolt of arousal through him at the same time. How could such a jerk make him feel this way, anyway?

He pulled a couple of times on Jecht's cock, running it through his fingers exploratorially. He had never touched another man so, and it wasn't entirely the same as touching himself.

Braska's hands continued to stroke his back and chest, and Jecht leaned back with a contented sigh. But the laugh still echoed in his mind, and he shifted upwards onto his elbows, leaning forward. Let Jecht laugh - Auron would prove that he might be a virgin, but he wasn't afraid.

Jecht's cock tasted musky and strange, but not unpleasant as Auron rolled his tongue experimentally around the head. The noise of shock and pleasure that Jecht made in response was incredibly satisfying, as well.

Slowly, but with growing confidence, Auron began to suck and bob his head up and down. Jecht groaned and squirmed under his ministrations, his fingers rubbing the back of Auron's head but not forcing him down onto his cock.

"Yeah, yeah, fuck that's good, Fuck, I never knew your mouth was so hot, Auron," Jecht purred, and Auron did his best to ignore him, though he did feel a flush of pleasure at the praise, crude as it was. He redoubled his efforts, plunging his head up and down, focused entirely on what he was doing.

There was something wrong, though, and it didn't take long for him to figure out what it was. After a few moments, he lifted his head - ignoring the cry of dismay from Jecht - and turned to look at Braska, who was merely sitting beside him now, a hand rested on the small of Auron's back. Braska had a bemused look on his face that looked a little too sad for Auron's liking.

"My Lord... is it--"

"Auron, don't worry about me. My turn will come soon enough," Braska said, a smile curving his lips. But it looked a little forced to Auron.

"Don't be an idiot, Braska, c'mere. Ya can't get a good look at that angle," Jecht said, gesturing expansively. "And I'm sure I can spare a hand or two."

"Yes, come here, My L-- Braska," Auron said. "Please."

Braska coloured and crawled over, sitting next to Jecht and wrapping his arms around his neck. "Well, how could I say no to such a charming invitation," he said, the smile more genuine now.

The two men kissed, pressing close, and Auron bent his head again. He wasn't about to just pleasure Jecht. When he lowered his head, he curled both hands around Braska and Jecht's cocks, stroking them together. That produced twin gasps, and both men scrambled a little to reposition themselves, making it easier.

Then Auron opened his mouth wide, and swallowed both cocks, his mouth stretching painfully and his jaw opened to the fullest extent. Brutally, he pushed himself to bob his head up and down, ignoring any nerves or qualms he felt.

"Oh dear Yevon," Braska groaned. Auron opened his eyes and looked up as best he could to see the two men gasping with pleasure, their hands running greedily over each other and their tongues tangled together as they kissed passionately.

He smiled a little and closed his eyes once more, losing himself concentration, determined to make this amazing.

Braska and Jecht soon cried out together, their sounds muffled by the kiss they shared. Both men began to writhe, jerking their hips forward unconsciously and claiming Auron's mouth. Auron couldn't do much more than ride it out, holding tightly to their hips and struggling not to choke as first Jecht, and then Braska, began to lose control.

Their cocks slipped over each other against his tongue, rubbing together as well as plunging towards the back of his throat. Auron struggled just to hang on as their writhing grew more and more erratic and their cries grew full-voiced.

Braska lost it first, but Jecht followed him soon after. Auron almost choked and he had to pull back, gasping and coughing as he strove to breathe, let alone swallow the twin jets of fluid that had flooded into his mouth. No sooner had he managed to swallow it and clear his airway, but he was dragged into a full-armed embrace by Jecht.

"Nice, real nice," Jecht murmured into his ear, no longer snide or smug, but honestly pleased. Auron smiled, a warm glow lighting him as both men slid onto the pallet on either side of him, pulling the blanket over them all.

"Oh yes, just divine," Braska whispered on his other side, his arms stretched across both men as if seeking to protect them both from the world.

"It was..." Auron's voice was more gravely than usual, and he cleared his throat. His jaw was aching, but it was a pleasant ache. "Thank you both," he finished awkwardly, unable to think of an appropriate enough adjective.

"Don't cry now," Jecht murmured. He sounded like he was already half asleep, his fingers moving over Auron's hip in a possessive, but unconscious caress. "There's always next time, too. Ya wouldn't want us ta think you're too fragile for this."

"Shut up, Jecht," Braska murmured, though Auron could feel him smiling against his shoulder.

Auron closed his eyes and settled down against the pillows, wrapped up between his two best friends in Spira, and smiled.


End file.
